


Better Than Intended

by aliencereal



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Cultural Differences, F/M, Love Confessions, Marriage Proposal, Misunderstandings, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:04:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2387651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliencereal/pseuds/aliencereal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Carver, traveling with Merrill is the best thing about life after Kirkwall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Than Intended

Once, Carver Hawke asked Theron Mahariel about Dalish courting practices.

Let's rephrase that.

Once, a slightly drunk nineteen year old Junior Warden asked the Warden-Commander of Fereldan for dating advice, in front of about 12 other Grey Wardens who did _not_ let it die.

Yeah, Carver tries not to think about it.

But right now, he's glad he asked, even if it made him feel like a fool at the time. He isn't entirely sure how it happened, but after things went right to the Void in Kirkwall, he'd ended up on the run with Merrill.

He hasn't the slightest clue where his brother ran off to with Anders, but he's actually pretty glad they're not traveling together. Merrill can take care of herself, but traveling with a man who murders to make a point and doesn't like her? Not Carver's idea of a good plan.

The past months haven't done anything to lessen Carver's feelings for Merrill. If anything, they've only gotten stronger. There's something about her particular brand of good cheer that makes him feel melty and warm, like she's actively sanding away his rough, prickly coating of bitterness. Sometimes she smiles at him in the firelight, warm and safe, and he feels like the most important person in the world for having some small part in keeping her that way.

Maker, this woman is turning him into a sappy mess.

Winter is threatening to come upon them, and that's when Carver finds the moment to make his move. Merrill's clothes aren't meant for snow; elf or not, exposed toes is just asking for frostbite. She waves him off when he asks her about it, but he still notices the purplish tint to her fingers and the way she shivers against the wind.

It's when he's thinking of something he could do to warm her up ( _not like that_ , although he'd be a filthy liar if he said he hadn't thought about it) that he remembers. He doesn't remember the exact specifics of what Mahariel had said, because he'd tried so hard to forget the whole situation and he _had_ been drunk, but he does remember that pelts were involved. Thick furs to drape around her neck and shoulders would probably warm her up nicely, and perhaps get his feelings across in a way she'll understand.

It isn't until he's killed a wolf, skinned it, shared the meat between them, tanned the pelt and presented it to Merrill that he realizes it might mean something more than a romantic gesture.

Merrill is staring at the pelt with undisguised amazement, running her fingers along the softness of the fur. Carver's face feels hot and he's more nervous than he should be; it's _Merrill_ , even if she rejects him, it isn't as though she'll laugh in his face.

He's starting to fidget when she looks up at him, an impossibly bright smile on her face. Carver's heart leaps into his throat; she is _adorable_.

“Yes,” She says, clutching the furs to her chest. “Yes, oh, absolutely, I was beginning to wonder if this was going to happen, and I was all ready with this silly little speech, but now I can't seem to remember a word of it!”

Merrill is laughing, and Carver's seen her smile hundreds of times but never like _this_. She doesn't throw her arms around him like she always does when he fantasizes about this moment, but she does hop up onto her toes to kiss him. Carver doesn't have time to kiss her back before she leans back on her heels, rubbing her face against the furs.

“I didn't even know humans proposed with pelts! I thought it was a Dalish thing. Oh, you'll have to tell me how the ceremony goes--”

Carver gets his wits about him enough to interrupt her there.

“Propose? Like marriage?” He asks, and if there's confusion in his voice, Merrill doesn't catch it.

“Isabela said that's what humans call being bonded, I think. Am I wrong?” She asks, still looking like she might start bouncing at any moment.

It takes Carver another moment to process that, and then he realizes what he's just done. He just _proposed marriage to Merrill_.

And she said _yes_. He feels a little bit lightheaded from how fast the surge of joy comes on. Really, he should be trying to clear up the misunderstanding.

Except that he thinks he likes her version of the events much better than his own.

So he kisses her instead.

(His fiancée looks lovely in her new pelt and, more importantly, it keeps her quite warm.)


End file.
